Over the Edge
by Ytak
Summary: Conan accompanies Mouri and Ran to a mansion and encounters a situation that shows him that anyone can be pushed over the edge.


Conan stared up at the imposing edifice the front of the mansion presented. He could hear Mouri being thanked for coming for a rather trivial case. He did not really understand why Mouri was invited over to investigate something so trivial but at least they were up in the mountains, away from the blistering summer heat of Tokyo.

Ran was very impressed the building and its setting. Conan smiled at her, _At least, I can enjoy her enthusiasm, thought the place is like many other rich homes we've visited before. _

Mouri and Ran were not bothered by the announcement that they would not be able to discuss the matter with the mistress of the house until after dinner. In the meantime, they were shown to their rooms.

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A screech echoed down the hall of the family wing, driving maids into rooms, anywhere where they would not have to witness the scene, a scene that was becoming increasingly common as the months went by.

An elderly woman stood in the elegant hall, she was yelling at a young boy. The tirade of obscenities was at odds with her elegant and cultured appearance.

"You are a little bastard! You are filth! You're a parasite!" the elderly person screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. "You owe _everything_ to me! If it weren't for me, you'd still be on the street like that filth that was your mother!"

The child standing in front of her said nothing. He stared up at her impassively as she went through her daily tirade. The blankness of his face hid a deep and growing anger, that becoming harder to manage each time she yelled at him.

She was breathing heavy by the time she finished. Straightening, she told the boy, "I'm going to go have some tea. I don't want to see your face anymore tonight. You will go to your room and stay there until I say you can come out. If I discover you left the room, there will be consequences!"

The boy winced at her promise. There would be painful consequences if he disobeyed his grandmother. His collar bone was not long healed after an encounter with her cane and that was only the most current of injuries. Long suppressed anger beat in his head, throbbing like a migraine. How he hated that woman!

His feet felt like they were weighted with lead as he walked towards his room. He threw a hateful glare back at his grandmother. She was shuffling along, almost to the stairs. He stopped and turned around. The anger continued to grow. Like a time before, he perceived an opportunity to release it. To free himself of the one who caused pain.

With feet that now felt light, he ran and gave her a shove with both hands just as she lifted her foot to take the first step down. She let out a small shriek and put her hands out to grab something but, as was her habit, she walked down the middle of the grand staircase and there was nothing to grab onto.

The boy watched as she tumbled down the stairs and landed at the bottom in an undignified, and unmoving, heap.

He stood at the top of the staircase, the anger at the woman now gone and only emptiness left in its wake. With a nod to himself, he walked into the room and closed the door.

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The sound of running footsteps and frantic voices roused Conan from his novel. He could hear a stressed voice call out, as he knocked on the door across the hall, "Mouri-san? Mouri-san! It's terrible! What do we do?"

Conan put down the book he was reading and opened the door a bit. The butler was at Mouri's door, wringing his gloved hands. "The mistress is dead! What do we do?" he asked, clearly at a loss.

"What happened?" Mouri asked.

"Oh, it's terrible. We found her at the bottom of the stairs! We couldn't revive her!" he moaned.

"First, don't move her any more and, second, call the police and the paramedics. The police will need to fill out a report and the hospital can handle her body," he said, following the frantic butler.

Conan quickly slipped on his house slippers and moved to catch up. One of the maids caught him, "Hmm, where do you think you are going little boy?"

Conan put on his 'cute' face, "I'm hungry and I was going to ask the butler how to get to the kitchen!"

"Oh!" she said, "Well, you can't go that way. I'll take you back through the servants' staircase. It'll be faster." Conan seethed as she walked him along, holding onto his hand. "Oh!" she added, "You can keep little Shinta-chan company. He must be devastated."

"Why?" Conan asked, looking up at her.

"Oh!" she said again, Conan decided that she had to start every sentence like it was a moment of revelation. She bent down and whispered, "The mistress, his grandmother, died. She fell down the stairs and one of the other maids had the stupidity to scream, bringing him out. And after his cousin also died from a tumble down the stairs. Poor boy, having to see his grandmother like that." He heard her mutter, "It might be for the best."

Conan sensed something was wrong. "What might be for the best, nee-chan?" he said cutely.

She blushed and waved off his question, "It's nothing!"

She managed to evade any of his probing questions on the way to the kitchen. In the kitchen, she set him up at a table with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. On the other side, he could see Shinta calmly eating from his plate.

Something about the boy bothered Conan. He was quite calm. He did not seem bothered by his grandmother's death.

He could see fading bruises on arms and he seemed to favor one arm over the other. Conan decided to test something, "I'm sorry about your grandmother."

The other boy look up and shrugged, "It's okay. I'm fine."

Conan felt a little stunned at his attitude. If he were Genta or Mitsuhiko, he would be shaking and trying not to cry.

Shinta looked up at him, "No, really, I'm okay. I've only lived here a year. We weren't close."

Conan nodded slowly, still feeling a little uneasy about the boy. The cool attitude unsettled him. He finished his meal quickly and slipped out of the room. It took him a few minutes to find his way back to the grand staircase for the family's wing. A stretcher was being wheeled out by a pair of paramedics. There was a police detective there, putting away his notebook.

"It looks like an accident," the detective said, looking around the palatial place. "Unfortunate, that. Didn't a kid die the same way?"

The butler twitched, "Yes, the young master a few months ago. We could not keep him from running around. The Mistress indulged in his... delinquent behavior. You remember the excesses she allowed him to go to."

Conan could hear a couple of the maids whispering. "On the same stair, too. Do you think the stair is cursed?"

The other maid scoffed, "If anyone is cursed, it would be Shinta."

"Why?" whispered the younger maid.

She was given a pitying look, "His father died when he was still a baby and he was thrown onto the street with his mother because the Mistress didn't like her. She never did approve of the marriage and was happy to kick her out. She was forced to take the kid in after his mother died."

She folded her arms, "It's almost like he was being avenged."

The younger maid nodded, "Today's was bad, wasn't it?" Before Conan could find out what 'today's' was the butler told the maids to get back to work. They needed to make the place presentable for the the eldest son, who would be arriving soon to handle his mother's effects.

The butler noticed him standing in the doorway, "Ah, Edogawa-kun, I must ask you to return to your room for the moment. We have much to do and this isn't the sort of thing a child should see."

Conan pretended to nod meekly and walked back to staircase that lead to the wing his room was in. Instead of returning to his room, he stopped in front of the various alcoves that contained busts and expensive, and old, vases. His intent was to listen to the maids as they made their rounds.

What he learned disturbed him greatly. While the mistress of the house had been very formal and polite with Mouri, commenting on how well he behaved and how Mouri had a dutiful, beautiful daughter, she had been very abusive to Shinta.

Shamelessly, he used the youthful eagerness he mastered to ply the maids for questions. He learned that the cousin, Gohei, sometimes bullied Shinta. _I wonder if someone might have killed the two as punishment for bullying Shinta? But it would have to be a very cold person to kill a child. Maybe the grandmother killed her grandson and she was killed as revenge? But, by all accounts, she favored him._

Conan continued to walk down the halls until a maid noted the time and said he should be in bed and boy did he ask a lot of questions.

He smiled sweetly at her, "But my mother said that I won't know things unless I ask."

Conan was surprised when he saw another maid leading Shinta in the opposite direction, gently chiding the other boy for wandering around when he should be getting ready for bed.

He was even more surprised by the poisonous look Shinta shot him. It was a chilling look.

Laying in bed that night, he wondered pondered about the similarity of the deaths between the grandmother and her grandson.

The next morning, he settled on an uncomfortable conclusion. _Shinta could have killed both. It would be easy for a child to push an adult down the stairs if they were just taking a step off the top and would be even easier to do it to another child. He had plenty of motive and opportunity. There is only one truth._ He growled in frustration. _But I have no proof! Only hearsay and rumor._

He allowed the thoughts to sink in as he ate breakfast. The cooks in the kitchen welcomed him with a hearty meal, quite more than he could eat. He felt like he had a bunch of overvigilant babysitters. The maids constantly were leading him from places and now the cooks said he could eat the kitchen because the adult table would be boring.

"Conan-kun, right?" said one of the cooks. Conan nodded. "I was told to tell you that you need to go back to your room to pack. I believe your guardian is going to be leaving after talking to the Master." The large woman gave him a warm smile, "You can use the servants' stair again. It makes no sense for you to take the long way. And when you are done packing, you come back here. I'm making up something for your trip back."

He started for the stairs and stopped. He wanted to talk to Shinta one more time. He hoped to prove or disprove his theory before he left. There were simply too many little things that bothered him. They needed to be put to rest.

Putting on another smile, he asked, "Where is Shinta-kun? I'd want to tell him I'm sorry for his loss."

The round chef smiled at his thoughtfulness, "I think he went exploring in the wing you are staying in. He likes to explore the different wings. Says he always see something new."

Conan lightly ran up the curving servants' stairs. He wanted to see if he suspicions were correct. _A kid wouldn't kill, would he?_ he asked himself but knew that was not true. He could come up with half a dozen instances in the last decade but none were like this one.

He stopped just short of the top of the stairs. There stood Shinta. He had a wild look in his eyes. "You keep asking about me. You are turning the house against me." His tone dropped and the wild look increased, "This is the nicest place I've ever lived. Just when it became perfect, _you_ had to butt in."

Conan was startled by the look of menace and hate in the boy's eyes. Abruptly, Shinta lunged, grabbing the front of Conan's shirt. "You're ruining everything," he stated simply and pushed Conan backwards.

Conan let out a yell and his arms pinwheeled as he fell backwards. He could see the look of anger disappear from the boy's eyes as he fell but return quickly when he saw that Conan was not going to tumble straight down the stairs.

The servants' stair curved, and he shoved Conan with enough force to make him careen into the curved wall.

He let out a inarticulate roar and went to attack Conan again. This time, Conan was prepared and had his hands firmly wrapped around the banister.

Conan yelled as loud as he could, "HELP!" That was the only word he got out as the other boy smacked him across the face and wrapped his hands around Conan's neck.

The other boy was not much bigger than Conan but his anger lent him strength. Conan could feel the world growing dim. But he could hear running steps.

A voice cried out, "Shinta! What do you think you are doing?!" and the hands let go of his neck. Conan opened his eyes and could see a maid holding Shinta back. He allowed himself to loosen his grip and slump against the wall.

Within the next minute, more maids, the butler, and Mouri had appeared. They were stunned by the violence in the boy's face and his violent struggles to get Conan.

Shinta was quickly removed and locked in his room as the butler called the detective again. Mouri picked up Conan and carried him downstairs. Along the way, he met with Ran who expressed worry over Conan's condition.

He was laid down on a couch in the main parlor. Ran kept a worried watch over him as they waited for the police to come. In short order, the detective from the day before arrived, along with the paramedics, and was questioning Conan as the paramedics checked him over.

Conan told the police detective, in his best child voice, "He killed his grandmother. I heard the maids talking a lot. They said she yelled at him a lot and he got hurt a lot more than kids who play more than he does but isn't clumsy." While he found it a trial to act like a cute but injured kid, Conan knew that he needed to act that way. Sardonically, he realized that being lightheaded made it easier. The words poured out a less organized matter than when he played "The Sleeping Detective." He caught his breath and suggested, "I heard his cousin died the same way. Maybe he killed him, too?"

The detective pinched the bridge of his nose. Shinta was only nine. Trouble would only being to cover the situation that would be encountered when he brought the child in.

A little while later, Conan watched from around a corner as Shinta was lead away by the police detective. He seemed dejected and looked around the building. He seemed to know that it might be the last time he ever saw the place.

Conan asked himself a great many questions. Could he have handled it better? Could he have made Shinta confess? Could he have avoided that confrontation?

With the attack on Conan, Conan knew that they would look for evidence that showed a dangerous personality. One who definitely killed once, possible twice, and tried to kill again.

Would it be tried under the Family system or under criminal prosecution. His age denoted Family court but the severity of the crime could make it a serious criminal matter.

He allowed Ran to carry him to the car without complaint. He did not have the energy to even offer token protest.

Conan felt numb.

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Afterward:

Ultimately, the only proven crime was the attack on Conan. The police found, like Conan had, that there was only hearsay and conjecture, no hard evidence. There was still a lingering cloud of suspicion over Shinta. There were even whispers suggesting that he killed his mother, too. The system arranged for Shinta to receive help with his explosive temper while he was in juvenile detention. When he was deemed fit to go live with his uncle, in the same house, he was more isolated than before...

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References used (the links won't work here but I'll try):

wwwdotcrimelibrarydotcom A truly amazing site with more information about crimes and criminals than you can shake your fist at.

You should be able to google the titles and come up with these articles. BBC News: Japan schoolgirl killer 'sorry' States that the age of criminal responsibility in Japan is 14. The article gives some info as to why it was dropped from the age of 16 to 14.

Japanese Juvenile Justice is explained in this article.


End file.
